


Somebody To Love

by kjhwave



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Abandoned baby, Bad Music Puns, Freddie Mercury Lives, Historical Inaccuracy, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I did base level research as I needed it, Inspired by Music, M/M, Mary Austin is a Good Friend, Mother Hen Freddie Mercury, Paul Prenter Being an Asshole, Protective Freddie Mercury, Somewhat, The band is supportive, Why Did I Write This?, parent!Freddie Mercury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26377447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjhwave/pseuds/kjhwave
Summary: Freddie Mercury had just broken up with Mary Austin, and he felt confused with what life wanted out of him. So, he asked a question... And the universe answered. In the form of a cliche, cardboard box baby.P.s. read the tags for a much better idea about what’s going on
Relationships: Freddie Mercury & Original Female Character(s), John Deacon & Brian May & Freddie Mercury & Roger Taylor, Mary Austin & Freddie Mercury
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	1. Can Anybody Find Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, hello. Welcome to... whatever this will be. It's literally writing itself, and I have no clue where it's gonna go. I'm as in this wild ride as you are. I hope you like this mediocre story. It's inspired by a lullaby, and, the namesake of this work... I think that's all the context you need...

It was the cold night of December 19th 1976. Fresh sleet coated the edges of the sidewalk, worn through by the many people walking around despite the frigid weather, and wet snow piled up in alleys, nary a footstep ruining the pristine slick white. Jolly music could be heard spilling down and out of flats up above, as the merriment of Christmas neared its peak for the year. Yet never once had Freddie felt so betrayed and frustrated with himself and the world as he stumbled his way home in a drunken stupor. 

It was a rare event that Freddie went out to drink alone. But after what had happened a few days prior with Mary, he had been itching to go and now here he was, mind fuzzed with alcohol and thoughts racing a mile a minute as he walked. His thoughts drifted back to the source of his melancholy. He was saddened, that Mary and he had to end their romance, and it made something dark cloak his heart when he thought about the fact that he wouldn’t have his family with her, or that they wouldn’t be tied together for life in marriage, and yet he couldn’t stand the thought of keeping her locked to someone who couldn’t give her the right attention, for it wasn’t her fault that he was gay, that he preferred men over women, so he did the next best thing and took it out on himself. He sighed, then, as he realized that the love of his life would never be his alone anymore. Wasn't there someone for Freddie, _Somebody To Love_ just for him? The brunette snorted then and kicked a pebble in his path over his stupid, drunken pun over his music, but something in his soul ached for it to become true. _At least she’ll always be my friend_ Freddie hummed to himself.

Freddie was nearing the end of the street he was sludging through, and he knew around the corner stood his flat complex. He stopped in his tracks and debated whether to go inside or go on to another pub. The young man stood at the entrance of an alley on the main street, breathing in the fumes of passing cars and the stale, dry air, listening to the loud rumbles of engines and Christmas songs on the radio… and just as he was about to continue his walk and head elsewhere to intoxicate himself further, a faint, sharp wail pierced through the night. 

_A baby_ his mind supplied after a few seconds. His head whipped around, looking for a mother out walking before he noticed _it was coming from the alley_. The poor thing cringed out another cry, and something in Freddie's very soul stopped to hear. It was a kindred cry, full of betrayal and anger and primitive sadness, and it resonated with his own. The singer found his legs walking towards that screaming babe without thought, heading into the alleyway carefully and leaving behind large, invisible steps in the slushy snow. His pace quickly increased the louder the young child seemed to be getting until finally, it crested and he knew he was right next to it. A box, _cardboard_ his thoughts explained, and the thickest, ugliest flannel he had ever seen thrown haphazardly over it to keep its contents, _the baby_ , safe from the cold weather outside.

He gingerly peeled back the flannel from the driest corner, and Freddie, in his inebriated state of mind, almost cried at what he saw inside. The little darling screamed again as the air from the outside rushed to its skin, and it scrunched its red face, waving tiny white mittened fists in the air, exposing the bib covering its neck, and shaking its head with surprisingly thick black curls bouncing around with the movement. A rich, green and pink striped blanket was wrapped tightly around the minuscule body, with the rest of the box lined with other mismatched flannels and cloth to keep whatever heat possible inside. A large, bulging envelope sat to the side of the babe’s squirming legs, penned elegantly with blue ink, and that was all he could make out. Freddie blinked, and it dawned on him how _cliche_ the whole situation was, but he didn't dare think into it more, not when an innocent child had cruelly been left to freeze.

The singer gently pulled the baby from the box and the crying died down. The curly-headed babe looked at his face properly for the first time, showing off teary lashes and dark eyes. Their colour wasn’t obvious in the alley, _but that didn’t matter right now_ Freddie told himself. He stooped down and grabbed the envelope, then grabbed a few of the thicker blankets to wrap around the little one. He brought the teeny bundle closer to his chest, feeling the cold blankets against his hands, and a panic the man had never felt before settled into him. He rushed out of the alley as fast as he could, mindful of the danger of the sleet on the pavement. He skidded the rest of the way home soberer than he had been all night, and without even realizing it, his half-hearted question had been answered.

* * *

After walking his way into the flat complex and receiving a few odd looks at the weird tangle of cloth hugged to his chest, Freddie patted his pockets and eventually jangled his keys out, his hand shaking slightly as he struggled to shove the key into his flat’s lock with his dominant hand busy clutching the envelope and holding the red-cheeked baby. The lock clicked after almost a minute of fiddling, and he stepped inside, using his foot to close the door as he adjusted the messy flannels and squirming darling in his arms.

He headed to the closet right by the entrance to the flat, opened it, clumsily shrugged off his coat and hung it before pulling out two of the neatly folded winter blankets on the top shelf. The singer shuffled over to the sofa close by, awkwardly throwing the first blanket over the large furniture item. Satisfied with the rudimentary protection from the cold, Freddie sat down over it and delicately placed the disarray of cloth that bundled the little curly-headed brunette down on his sofa.

With care, he slowly undid the flannels and blankets, folding them as he went so they wouldn't get grime everywhere because he could almost hear his mother's voice saying _Keep the home clean, Farrohk_. When he reached the plush green-pink blanket, he hesitated. It was the only cloth, aside from the gown on the babe itself, that was clean, and looked the most expensive. He brushed his hand alongside the velveteen striped pattern, breathing shakily as he undid the tight swaddle.

The baby gown was a simple thing. It was baby blue with a slim lace insert, a rounded boat collar, and puffy short sleeves. A bib with short lace stitched to the hem and bordered with embroidered roses was slipped over the collar of the gown. She had a white cloth nappy cover and matching socks to her mittens. All in all, the clothing matched beautifully with the baby’s light brown coloured skin, and _at least she was dressed_ Freddie remarked in his haze, a relieved exhale escaping his lips, the little girl only staring at him with brown doe-eyes as he did so. They stayed staring like that for a few minutes, and eventually, the baby smiled, all gummy and cute and the singer's heart melted at the sight.

His eyes drifted over to the slightly crumpled garish yellow envelope on the coffee table a pace away from the two. The envelope was titled _To Whomever It Concerns_ and large enough to fit stately documents comfortably, but it seemed to not have been enough space, considering the large bulge at the bottom of it. Freddie plucked the almost package from the table, unbuckling the pin securing it closed at the top, and opening it.

The first thing he noticed was a handwritten letter. It was the same blue ink at the front, except much more vibrant than on the envelope, due to the paper being white. He slipped it out and noticed the patches where the paper was significantly crinkly and ink had smudged downwards _as some had cried on it_. Freddie turned his gaze to the darling beside him, who had decided she'd much rather nap than be awake now that she was warm, and something in his heart ached. He turned back to the letter in his hand and read:

_To Whom It May Concern:_

_Hello, Stranger. I'm a teenager. I will never get to know the father of my baby. All I know is that he is from southern India. My parents threw me to the streets when I got pregnant. I can't explain much, but I will be sent away by my parents if I'm caught. I know. It's horrible what I did. I left my baby in the cold winter. But I have faith, have faith in the Lord that He will deliver my baby somewhere safe. I might not be alive by the time this letter is read, but I hope that I will be. I pray that you, Stranger, may help me save my baby. I named my baby Lillian. She has no middle name, no last name. She is a month old and is healthy and strong, and ridiculously smart._

Freddie took a moment to stop, breathe, and take in the information. The little girl was named Lillian. Her mother was in danger and left her baby behind to protect her. It managed to quell the anger that had been simmering in his gut, but now a sort of sadness and pity settled heavy into his throat. The singer looked at the babe, snoring away peacefully on her blanket, then he gave a jittery sigh, and continued reading.

_I have enclosed her birth certificate and a false declaration of parentage. It is still not completed and submitted because I had a home birth with no midwife. I am about to ask you to do something highly illegal. If you are a man, I want you to sign her birth certificate and the declaration, and then submit them to the Register Office. I have included the number of a dear friend of mine who works for the Kensington and Chelsea Register Office. He’ll make sure the paperwork goes through. If not, sign the kinship form also in the envelope. Please, I beg you, to do this. I don’t want her to be sent into the foster system. My Lilly will be hurt so cruelly for her heritage if she is sent into it. Please._

_For my precious Lilly, if she ever asks who her mother is, I have included a few photos of me and a letter for her eyes only. There is a black box enclosed with the paperwork, and it contains a few pieces of jewellery that have been in my family for decades. I leave them to her._

_Farewell,_

_CH_

He sat. Staring... and staring... his hands shook and a quiet sob escaped his lips. When did being drunk make Freddie so sensitive? No, no, it had nothing to do with that, and everything to do with this letter, this mother, this baby. He needed to call Mary... No, wait, oh it was too late to be thinking about this. He needed to sleep, and then he would figure out what to do in the morning.


	2. I Work Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than I thought, mostly because of school, whoops! Anyway, this chapter features Bad Britishism (trademark pending), Roger and Freddie's friendship, and Lillian being bottle-fed.

The night had quickly blurred for Freddie after reading the letter. Forever after, he would say it was due to his night out drinking, that he was  _ too drunk to remember everything  _ but he knew it hadn’t been that. The night had frenzied his memory, the emotion and situation weighing so heavy on his mind that the rest of his last hours awake had faded into oblivion. He could vaguely recall having panicked over sleeping arrangements, sneaking around his own flat with his curious cats meowing and sniffing at Lillian as she lay on the old couch and trying to be as quiet as he could to keep Roger from waking up to a screaming baby once they had made it to bed.

Freddie, despite being drunk and so tired, slept in bursts of minutes, far too stressed with keeping little Lilly quiet and calm to rest properly. He was paranoid about the whole situation, terrified over what to do. His breathing picked up when her foot gave a kick into the air, her cherub face pinching at teensy eyebrows and Freddie was getting ready to have to shush her when her body relaxed, and whatever tension she had faced left. He exhaled, putting a gentle hand on her cheek and caressing the chubby muscles there. It was some god awful hour of the twilight, and the light of the moon had managed to drift through his closed blinds. It kissed the babe’s face and his own, and for the first time since this wild adventure started, he had a moment to appreciate the tranquillity of this scene. His heart sang, and a rush of emotions, positive and overwhelming, filled his chest. He smiled, moved his thumb in soothing circles on her soft skin and as he felt himself drifting to sleep for the umpteenth time, he felt at peace.

By some miracle, the curly-headed-month-old didn’t cry in the night. 

* * *

With the morning came the first sign of trouble. Freddie was startled awake with Roger knocking loudly on his door. “Hey mate, is there a reason our sofa looks like a shitty bird’s nest?” The blond noisily asked from outside the door. The singer cursed, running a hand down his face and casting a quick look to Lilly, who had already been awake for a while, trying to shove her hand into her mouth. The babe caught his eyes and gave a gurgle, then continued on her quest to swallow her fingers whole.

The brunet huffed a quiet laugh at her antics as his feet found the cold floor of his flat and he made his way to his door. He creaked the door open slowly, exposing only his face to Roger and keeping the rest of the room out of view. The drummer quirked an eyebrow, resting a pale hand on the equally pale door frame, his expression reading between bemused and confused as he waited for his friend to speak. "Why, yes, Roger, there is good reason for the couch to look like a storm of gross cloth, but that's a discussion for-" Freddie never did get to finish his sentence. A shrill cry punched its way through the door and into the hallway.

Roger blinked. Once. Twice. Freddie cringed. The hand that had been resting on the doorframe tightened its hold. Neither man spoke, frozen in time out of shock.

Lillian wailed again. Freddie snapped out of it, abandoning his place by the door and letting it swing wide open. He rushed to the baby, picking her up and settling her clumsily against his chest, rocking back and forth with her while trying to quiet her down. Roger stared at the scene from his place at the door, his mouth dropping slightly. The blond blinked rapidly after a few seconds, taking a breath as he peeled his fingers away from the doorframe and he stepped into Freddie’s bedroom. His blue eyes stayed glued to the baby on his friend’s chest. “Freddie is that- Why do you-” The drummer tried saying, absolutely bewildered and at a loss for words as he continued watching, feeling more and more baffled the longer he went without a response.

Lilly had quieted her sobs, but Freddie’s rocking wasn’t enough to completely stop them. The brunet singer was desperately trying to figure out what could be wrong when he realized something: “Roger, when does Tesco open?” The drummer’s eyes snapped away from Lillian, making contact with the mystical deep browns of the other man. “Uh- It’s already open… Freddie, why do you have a baby?” The blond asked with concern, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other in a nervous tic. “We can talk all we want about this later, right now, I need you to go to Tesco and buy a baby bottle and a tin of infant formula- Doesn’t matter what type. Take some of my money for it” He said, pointing to the leather wallet sitting on his nightstand.”But Fred-” The blue-eyed man started, a bit exasperated when he was interrupted. “Roger... please” The other but whispered, and while Roger was still burning with questions, he could sense the urgency in his friend’s voice, so he nodded instead and left with Freddie’s wallet.

Freddie rocked Lillian gently, moving around his bedroom slowly. He placed a soft hand on her back and rubbed soothing circles, offered her sweet comforting words as he waited for Roger to get back. “My Lilly, what am I going to do?” He sighed into her baby curls, holding her close as his heart ached for the separated family on his mind.  _ What do I do?  _ The singer hummed to himself, thinking over what he knew of the situation. A mother who abandoned her baby for good reason, but  _ was that enough to not tell authorities?  _ Did he have a right to interfere here, to help them? The letter had said it would be illegal to do so. But his soul pleaded, swelled with emotion at the thought of leaving this small family alone. Freddie closed his eyes and exhaled, lifting his hand higher to rest on her small head, threaded his hand gently into the head of dark curls. The pair stayed like that, with Freddie doing his best to lull a progressively louder Lillian to silence while waiting for Roger.

A little over a half-hour later, the blond drummer returned, rushing into their shared flat and almost slamming the door closed in his frazzled state. He walked into Freddie's room with the Tesco bags in hand and placed the other man's wallet back where it was before. "Alright, I have it, now can you  _ please _ -" Lillian cut him off with a heaving cry, her face red and scrunched, teeny fists and even smaller nails digging into Freddie's pyjama shirt as she expressed her rage. "Freddie... Do you even have anything to take care of the baby with?" Roger stated quietly after a few seconds of watching Freddie flail with the curly-headed brunette. He only sighed, and caught the blond's eyes with a tired, sad look. "No, she didn't come with anything but a name, a few letters, and a mess of blankets," The brown-headed man said distantly, his hand subconsciously continuing a cycle of tiny circles on Lillian's back as she continued to weep.

"I’m sorry, what?” Roger hissed through his teeth, absolutely perplexed with the situation unfolding in front of him. “What... Fred, what do you mean by that??” He said loudly, startled and perturbed, his eyebrows rising almost comically in his shock. “Roger, as ludicrous as it sounds, I found her. I found little Lilly abandoned outside in a cardboard box” The other answered bluntly, manoeuvring himself around his room and to the door. “Now. Roggie, be a dear and help me feed her while I explain to you what I know” Freddie said kindly, finding his way through their flat to the kitchen. His friend followed like a quiet spectre as he processed what was told to him.

When they arrived at their small kitchen, the blond set down the store bags, taking out a metal tin and a large box from the other bag. Freddie raises an eyebrow at it, and Roger flushes in a bashful, embarrassed manner, as he struggles his way through opening the box. “The, uhm, store employee was very helpful... I didn’t know what to buy so...” He helplessly shrugs and gestures to the box as he finally pops it open. Inside, lay four brand-new baby bottles and a cleaning kit. Freddie nodded in approval, and the two men spent a few minutes reading instructions and preparing one of the baby bottles. With some struggle, composed mostly of Roger flailing with measurements and Freddie busy keeping little Lilly from crying any louder, they managed to fill a bottle with what they hoped was an adequate amount of formula for Lillian. 

The brunette, despite her fussing, let herself be manoeuvred and adjusted into a cradle hold where Freddie was able to gently feed the teat of the bottle into her teeny lips. Red-faced Lilly immediately stopped crying, busying herself with biting the rubber further into her mouth and begin nursing from the bottle. Her small, lacey mittens curled around the bottle, and she started to suckle. Whispered gurgles and hums of satisfaction spilt over her lips as she hungrily downed the warm milk, her sock-clad feet giving little twitches in her concentration. Freddie stared down at her from under his lashes, his heart swelling and leaving him warm inside as he watched her eat. Fleetingly, he thought  _ I want to do this for the rest of my life _ and his eyebrows furrowed as he realized what he’d just whispered into his own mind.  _ Could he do that? Could he commit to raising a child?  _ He shook his head, he could think about that later, with Mary.

Roger leaned against one of their kitchen counters, his eyes thoughtful as he stared at his friend and the baby he’d found. What were they going to do? Was there anything they could do to help? He sighed, ran his hand through his blond hair as he continued watching the pair on the other side of their small kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's a little shorter than the last chapter, I'll make it up to you, I promise! Anyway, comments, ideas, kudos are appreciated!!

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if you think this is good! Comment your theories, thoughts, or any suggestion on where this could go because I have no idea. See you sometime ridiculously soon, probably.


End file.
